


Five Times

by lostnoise



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Frottage, Kissing, Knotting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostnoise/pseuds/lostnoise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Stiles wants Derek to knot him, and one time Derek does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Sterek Week. It's set in a vaguely alternate universe taking place after Peter’s death with none of season 2 being applicable. Scott, Lydia, and Jackson are werewolves, and while Stiles and Allison are not, they’re all pack. Vaguely edited, so please excuse any errors!

1.

Stiles comes across the information by accident. And by accident, he means that Scott comes to him sweaty, half-dressed, and looking crazed with a boner the size of France in his pants. (Yes, Stiles does laugh at his own joke, but Scott seems less enthused as he pushes the heel of his hand at the member in question.) After Stiles stops laughing, which takes about ten minutes and some actual growling on Scott’s part, Scott tells him what happened.

“You owe me so bad,” Stiles says once Scott finishes, and then he sighs as Scott drops his shorts (which, really, they do nothing to hide Scott’s problem) to reveal his erection. Now, Stiles has seen Scott’s penis before – but not after the whole werewolf thing, and apparently that made things really different. “O-oh. _Oh._ ”

Scott nods and gestures, and Stiles understands it to mean _‘yeah, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.’_ Stiles’s eyes are kind of glued to the sight even as he raises his hand to point to the ceiling, about to say his plan – then he finally tears his eyes away, because, uh. Wow. What? Wow. Stiles swallows because there’s an engorged knot at the base of Scott’s cock and that definitely is a werewolf thing.

“Let me look it up,” Stiles says weakly, turning towards his computer and typing things into the search and clicking anything that seems relevant.

It takes him about an hour for him to compile a comprehensive explanation (with graphic images, god, Scott _owes_ him so hard for this) and by the time they get to the pictures Stiles prints out Scott’s erection is gone and, Stiles guesses, his knot with it. Stiles sighed happily because that would have been awkward.

The whole deal with the knot is mating, trying to claim someone for life because that’s what wolves did. The knot in werewolves, Stiles had theorized based on vague information about werewolves mixed with mating habits of wolves, is a subconscious thing where the wolf saw mate material in another person, human or werewolf. The knot only came out when the wolf wanted to assert that claim, and Scott nods like he vaguely understands. Now, Stiles loves his best friend since childhood, but Scott is not the sharpest tool in the shed and that fact is emphasized by Scott’s blank stares and confused expression. He moves to clap Scott on the shoulder.

“Well, it looks like Allison is it for you,” he says, trying to lessen the tension, and it works because Scott breaks out into a dopey smile.

Hours after Scott leaves, Stiles is lying in bed getting his paper done for history class when his mind stumbles over the realization of how weird his life is, and how having an Alpha wolf pushing him against the wall has become commonplace behavior. How is he even supposed to understand the reasoning behind Derek’s actions? And that, unfortunately, pushes Stiles’s thoughts clear into the gutter as it usually does when he lets himself think about the werewolf too long.

Stiles takes a deep breath in, the page in front of him on the computer stuck on the research he is doing for the history paper due the day after tomorrow. With everything going on, Derek training Scott and dealing with the aftermath of Peter’s death, and juggling school and taking care of his father and whatever supernatural threat of the moment, Stiles hadn’t been able to get it before now. His paper is halfway through explaining the effects of the French on the American front during the Revolutionary War but it might as well be written in French for all that Stiles can concentrate.

Derek- Derek would have that, wouldn’t he? The knot- he’d have the knot at some point. Scott’s looked pretty big, big enough that Stiles had wrinkled his nose in sympathy for Allison if she ever let that in her. So Derek’s would be even bigger, right? His research says that it points to ensuring a viable mate during breeding… so… Stiles swallows thickly and tugs at the collar of his shirt. Derek’s all six feet of muscle and tanned skin, defined abs and a commanding presence that causes Stiles to react so nervously that he should probably just eat his own foot for all the good he does for his wellbeing in challenging Derek’s authority.

Derek can manhandle him into different positions, he knows this from experience, and even though Stiles can’t look at a flat vertical surface without flinching and rubbing the back of his neck, he can’t help the flash of arousal through his loins.

So if Stiles goes to bed with his hands down his shorts thinking about what it would be like to have Derek’s knot swelling inside him… well, it’s Scott’s fault, really.

~

2.

He doesn’t think about it for another three weeks which, all things considered, is a definite feat because Stiles is a horny teenage boy and his thoughts are nearly always in the gutter. Stiles is at the library this time, researching this book a witch who hurt Lydia an hour ago spoke about coming to Beacon Hills for. He had to get the big guns out and go to the library, and he’s finally pulled the book of the shelf – it doesn’t seem special but it’s the only copy on the west coast and for whatever reason it’s in _Beacon Hills_ , what is Stiles’s _life_ – when a familiar sourwolf tugs Stiles by the back of his collar and pushed him against the back wall out of eyesight of anyone. Stiles had gone hunting deep in the library, worming his way through the twisting stacks, and it wasn’t fair that Derek had extra-special werewolf senses that he could use to track down Stiles without any effort.

“What are you doing here?” Derek growls in his face, and Stiles feels a flare of fear as sharp as the flash of arousal because this is an _Alpha werewolf_ pinning his body to the wall. Stiles focuses on the fear and let’s that win out and hopefully that’ll cover any other scents Stiles might be radiating. Damn Derek’s super-wolfy senses.

“I needed to research the book that crazy witch was talking about,” Stiles says, proud that he didn’t even trip over his words. He looks down at the book in his hand and tries to wave it around, managing to get some space between their bodies. “And I found it! Whatever it is, it’s the only one on the west coast which is probably why she wants it, you know, and really we should see what we can do to, like, vanquish her, but I figured since I was here and this was here, might as well kill two birds with one stone and get this so she doesn’t have it-”

“Stiles,” Derek growls, and Stiles feels his heart stutter, uncertain of the real emotion behind it. Fear or arousal, fear or arousal, _fear fear fear_ , that’s fear because Derek is silent for a long moment, nostrils flaring suddenly. Stiles is suddenly afraid for a very different reason – what if Derek smells the arousal and he’s about to kill Stiles for being attracted to him, oh god- “Stiles. Thank you.”

Derek steps back and Stiles slumps back against the wall with his chest heaving, making up for the breaths he didn’t take when he had to hold it during Derek’s moment of silence. Soon after there’s a crash somewhere in the library and Derek’s gaze breaks and he sniffs the air before his eyes go bright red before he turns back to Stiles. “Run, go back to my house,” he commands, and though Stiles usually fights him on everything, he clutches the book to his chest and follows Derek out of the stacks until he makes to go up to the balcony.

That’s where Stiles had to look at first for the book now in his hands; the witch hadn’t been that far behind him, and Stiles is suddenly glad that he’s the smart and reckless one in the pack. But as he watches Derek disappear up the steps, Stiles can’t help the way his own lips part softly. Derek is protecting _Stiles_ , protecting his pack, and it’s definitely a wolf thing.

He’s in his jeep and flying down the road towards Derek’s place, thinking about how at least they weren’t on bad terms with Allison’s parents this week, when he wonders idly if Scott knotted Allison yet or was able to ask Derek about how to control it. Stiles is licking his lip and his fingers curl into the fabric of his jeans before he realizes that he’s thinking about Derek again, and what Derek would be like while they knotted – how long would they knot for? How long would Stiles be able to enjoy the feel of Derek tied to him? – and Stiles huffs with frustration as he peels into the driveway outside the newly renovated house. It’s still a few weeks away from completion but at least there’s a proper den and kitchen and bathroom downstairs.

Stiles really needs to get his priorities straight.

~

3.

The next time Stiles thinks about it things are all quiet on the supernatural front. Jackson’s finally in the pack after a lot of begging and Stiles _swears_ that Jackson is the equivalent to an omega, seriously, because Jackson is just so- so submissive, but the last time he tried to tease the sensitive lacrosse player about it, Stiles ended up with a sore shoulder. Note to self: Don’t mock a newly turned werewolf.

Actually, a lot of developments have been made because Derek and Stiles are sort of… well, together. They don’t use labels for what they are, and Derek growls when anyone calls Stiles his “boyfriend,” especially when Jackson says it in that mocking tone Stiles is so used to. Derek’s still on unstable ground because Stiles is so young but after the Sheriff caught Derek kissing Stiles at the window and the Sheriff put down his gun and then laid down ground rules, Derek relaxed. A little. Stiles is still upset that they’re not _doing_ anything.

Basically they’re doing a lot of kissing and just a little bit of touching. That’s actually where they are at the moment, with Stiles in Derek’s lap in the back of the Camaro parked somewhere that Stiles only dreamed about visiting with someone. It’s the generally-accepted “Lover’s Lane” that overlooks the lights coming off of the town. Stiles had climbed into the back and beckoned Derek with a well-timed lick and bite of his lips while spreading his legs.

Derek’s mouth veers away from Stiles’s mouth and to his neck, going straight for the sweet spot at the bottom of the left side of his neck, near his collarbone. Stiles keens and grinds down against Derek’s lap. Derek’s hips canter up against Stiles’s and Stiles’s breath stutters in his chest as he thinks about Derek being inside him, shoving in and the knot swelling and tying them together as Derek comes inside of him in thick ropes that have no chance of escaping-

And so Stiles moans loudly with Derek rutting against him as he ruts right back against Derek, and comes right there in his pants.

~

4.

Derek’s deep inside Stiles, for the first time on graduation night, when the thought ripples through Stiles’s mind because Stiles thinks he feels something bigger at the base of Derek’s cock but no, no, why would Derek be knotting Stiles? He’s hardly compatible with Derek _or_ Derek’s wolf, Derek just barely tolerates Stiles and he knows it, but Stiles can’t help but want it. He’s thought about it and he’s jerked off to it once, only once, because Stiles doesn’t make a habit of thinking about things he could never have, Derek and Lydia aside.

But with Derek looming over him, with Stiles’s arms curled around Derek’s shoulders, he wonders what it would be like to be _owned_ by Derek in that way…

Derek pauses inside Stiles, breaking the steady rhythm of thrusts as his face rests against Stiles’s neck. For a moment, the younger man wonders if his boyfriend (partner? They still haven’t really talked about labels, and Derek still growls at the term boyfriend, but come _on_ , they’re boyfriends, seriously) is having second thoughts or can read his mind or something. Stiles opens his mouth to ask if Derek left the stove or the iron on or something weird and domestic like that because Derek has a fucking house of his own, but Derek growls soft in his throat and it quiets Stiles immediately.

“I just- I need a moment, okay?” Derek breathes against Stiles’s neck. Stiles’s own breathing stutters in his chest and he’s still for a moment before he shifts and wow, okay, no moving because Stiles is pretty sure his imagination isn’t pulling Inception on him when he feels the nudge of _something_ at the base of Derek’s dick that feels suspiciously like a knot. Derek growls again and Stiles goes still.

…Even if he does just want to shove himself backward and take the knot inside him. If Derek doesn’t want that, Stiles can’t exactly make him.

They’re quiet for a long moment, and Derek starts to move right as Stiles feels himself growing soft from the inactivity and too much thinking, and _boy_ does Derek make up for the momentary pause by slamming into Stiles so hard that the younger man is _sure_ he’ll be sore for the next few days. That’s probably exactly what Derek wants, and Stiles is reassured of this as Derek growls it into his neck, his shoulder, against his mouth… He growls about how Stiles won’t be able to move without thinking about Derek inside him, how Stiles is his and only his. Stiles blacks out as he comes.

Later, when they’re both sated and warm in a post-coitus sleepy haze, Stiles turns his head towards Derek. “What happened back there?” he murmurs, reaching over to poke Derek’s hip. “Why’d you stop? Like, it was really good and then- well, it got even better. So what happened?”

Derek’s silent in response, eyes closed and breathing steady, and it’s enough that Stiles flattens his palm over Derek’s hip and he curls against his boyfriend’s side (Stiles is totally using that phrase now, okay, because black-out orgasms plus post-sex cuddling totally count as boyfriends) because Derek is asleep. Stiles yawns, closes his eyes, and nuzzles at Derek’s shoulder. Derek’s asleep and so he can’t mock Stiles for the little touches as Stiles runs his fingers over Derek’s hip, tracing the lines of Derek’s abs, up to his chest.

Derek’s asleep, right, so Stiles can sit up and actually get a good look at him. He’s a little softer in his sleep, face no longer twisted in a scowl, and it’s so handsome that Stiles sighs and shifts so that he’s sitting on Derek’s thighs. His fingers trace over Derek’s features – his jaw, his cheekbones, over his brow and down his nose, brushing over those lips that can send Stiles into catatonia – and then down Derek’s neck, over those collarbones. Stiles wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Derek every morning, what it would feel like to have this sourwolf pressed against him every night. Stiles thinks about Derek, about them together, about them _lasting_.

Would Derek be there in a month, a year? Five years? Ten?

Would Derek ever feel like Stiles was a worthy mate? Would Derek ever knot him?

Stiles wants it. He knows that Derek cares about him, that Derek considers Stiles to be his, but mating would solidify it. Stiles wants that. He wants to be stuck with Derek, tied to him, wants the knot inside him and everything that it means.

Stiles’s hand moves down from Derek’s collarbone to press over Derek’s heart and his breathing goes all funny as he feels a flutter in Derek’s chest. Oh. So, _not_ sleeping, okay.

“You make me lose control,” Derek’s deep rumbling voice says, and Stiles looks up at the older man as he bites down on his lower lip. So what if Derek doesn’t consciously want to mate with him? So what if Stiles is good enough for the wolf but not the human? Stiles has this. He has the ability to make Derek lose it, he has Derek’s protection and sometimes even Derek’s trust.

Derek leans in a little to nudge his nose against Stiles’s nose and Stiles sighs.

It’s more than he can really ask for.

~

1.

Stiles and Derek don’t talk about the time-that-almost-was for a while after. It’s been about a year, twelve _fucking_ months, since things heated up between Stiles and Derek and Stiles is perfectly fine celebrating their “anniversary” in his mind because God knows Derek won’t remember. Well, okay, so he’s making Derek food at Derek’s place tonight and he bugged everyone else to leave the house, and that’s a bit more than just ‘celebrating in his head’ but Stiles thinks that it’s just subtle enough. He can probably pass it off as another “date night” as Lydia teasingly calls it.

It’s not just another date night, though.

Stiles has the steaks finishing off in the oven like his dad taught him, the baked potatoes still wrapped in foil on the counter, fresh rolls cooling on the stovetop… It’s pretty perfect and that’s when Derek steps up behind him, obviously done in the garage, and Stiles grins a little as he transfers the rolls into a basket instead. Derek’s arms curl around him, chin hooking over his shoulder.

“What’s the occasion?” Derek asks, the words rumbling through his chest and against Stiles’s back.

Stiles’s heart stumbles and the realization that Derek doesn’t know- but how should he? He can’t fault Derek just because _Stiles_ remembers the first time they kissed in front of the pack. At the time it seemed like such a declaration, like it meant everything, like they were _official_. Stiles laughs and stuffs a roll in Derek’s mouth.

“It’s nothing,” he says, pushing the pain down as he moves away from Derek to pull plates out of the cabinets. It’s kind of sad that he’s so familiar with where everything in Derek’s kitchen is more intimately than Derek. Derek brackets him against the counter right as Stiles turns around, and it’s seriously a miracle that Stiles doesn’t drop the plates in his hands because he was not expecting that, not one bit. “Uh, hi? Did you want to set the table? Because I can totally use a break-”

Derek leans in close and that’s usually a good way to shut Stiles up. He’s like a dog now, _heh heh_ , with his Pavlovian response to the chance that Derek will kiss him. But Derek doesn’t, and just hovers over Stiles’s mouth.

“What?” Stiles whispers after he leans in to kiss Derek and Derek keeps just this amount of space between their lips.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Derek says back, and he doesn’t usually whisper, and he’s not now, but it’s a lot quieter than Stiles is used to. Stiles licks his lips, looks at Derek’s which are so close, and nods for Derek to go ahead. “I- there’s something that werewolves do, when we- when we choose-”

Stiles kind of blanks for a moment because _is this Derek asking him if they can knot_ , and Derek says it right as Stiles tunes back in.

“-So I wanted to do that with you. Knot you.”

Stiles’s mouth falls open and he tries to find the words, tries to say _yes_ and _yes please_ and anything that can convey just how much he fucking wants that, knows _exactly_ what it means to Derek, to werewolves, and Derek looks like he’s getting angry with Stiles’s lack of words when Stiles says something he doesn’t mean to but that he was thinking of anyway. “Did you knot Kate?”

And Derek looks stunned, and there’s still dishes between them and Stiles should have swallowed his tongue or maybe bit it off because Derek’s stunned and Stiles messed it all up. Right before he can start babbling, Derek speaks up.

“No. My wolf didn’t want her.”

Oh. Oh, that means- that means a _lot_. That means that- and Derek always listens to-

“Oh,” Stiles breathes, but he means to actually say wow and so he does. “Wow.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrow together and he gets this look on his face that Stiles really only sees when Derek is disappointed and Stiles’s mouth flaps open uselessly as the two thoughts connect just in time for Derek to pull away.

“No! No, no, I mean- I mean yes, yes I want that,” Stiles says, and he rushes towards Derek before noticing the dishes in his arms. Putting them back on the counter he turns again and smacks right into Derek’s chest. This sort of feels like high school again. “I- Derek.” Stiles tilts his face up and brings his hands up to grip Derek’s shirt. “Derek, I _want_ that. You don’t even- you don’t even know how long I’ve-”

Derek doesn’t get to find out how long because he’s shoving his mouth against Stiles in the desperate sort of kiss that Stiles can’t ever get enough of, the ones that taste like _Derek_ can’t get enough of him. Him! Stiles Stilinski, graduated second in the class only behind Miss Lydia Martin.

Later, though, while they’re on their sides and Derek’s knot swells inside him for the first time, and Stiles has to squeeze his eyes shut because it fucking hurts, Derek pulls him in closer and breathes into his ear, telling him all about how long he’s wanted to knot Stiles, how his wolf knew immediately that this was what it wanted, what _Derek_ needed. Stiles clutches the covers tightly, fighting down a moan as the knot finally stops but there’s no way it’s coming out and this is what Stiles has wanted for _years_ now. He comes with Derek’s name on his lips and his back arching in pleasure against Derek’s chest as he slams his hips back.

Stiles might be sitting weird the next few days but it’s totally worth it as he catches Derek’s gaze next to him at the dinner table three nights later. Everyone knows what happened apparently because their scents changed or something, and while Jackson complains about the grins and the resemblance to parents which sets off the rest of them to complain loudly and making noises, Stiles just laughs and turns to revel in the fond look Derek sends him.


End file.
